Black Venus and Red Mercury
by Fireflower19
Summary: The faux-child knows this isn't a normal kidnapping. Black. The color is everywhere. Could a certain organization be involved? Events aren't adding up. What does this have to do with Kaitou Kid? Saguru, what have you done? Ran, Heiji, stay with Kogoro! Don't get involved! Eventual ShinKai and more.
1. Chapter One: Black Confinement

BLACK VENUS and RED MERCURY

DISCLAIMER: Detective Conan and Magic Kaito belong to Gosho Aoyama. I do not gain monetary value through this story. All I have done is borrow his characters and create this plot (with the help of inspiration).

I dedicate this work of fan-fiction to my loved ones who have not only kept me going over the years, but have enabled me to rise.

To all of the DCMK fans who read this, thank you and I hope this will be as grand an adventure for you as it is for me. Some of you may have a feeling of dé-jà vu when it comes to the initial start of this story. That is because this arrangement was inspired by **JoIsBishMyoga** and her DCMK fan-fiction _**Inconceivable**_. (Check her out!)

WARNINGS: Rated M for possible Blood, Drugs, Gore, Language, Psychological Trauma, Sexual Situations, and Torture. Some chapters may come with Trigger Warnings. (Also, possible spelling errors, grammatical errors, and usage of Japanese terminology AKA Fandom Language. Some scenes may make readers want to facepalm.) Proceed at your own risk.

TAGS: Cross-dressing, Gender Fluid, (possible) Hetero, Intersex, DC Movies Treated As Canon, (possible) Yaoi, and (possible) Yuri.

)*(

CHAPTER ONE: BLACK CONFINEMENT

Disjointed thoughts filter in randomly through the darkness rotating gently behind his eyelids. The thoughts quickly cut off and are followed by a seemingly long period of _nothingness_ before beginning again in a disorientating process that repeats itself several times. Eventually sensation breaks the pattern. It keeps him from drifting back to unconsciousness.

 _Ow_.

His sore body is sprawled on a hard, flat surface. His left arm throbs; especially the shoulder and tricep from where it had been pinned behind his back in effort to restrain him. A mere ninety-five centimeters or not, Conan had kicked, flailed, and scratched at anything and everything once that arm clothed in all black yanked him up from behind.

Terror. Jilting, cold terror had rushed through him, breaking through the shock as soon as he caught sight of the dark color, and squeezed hard enough to take his breath away—had his captor not already done so. The ambush had caught him _completely_ unaware (why hadn't he felt the presence of being watched?). More sensations quickly come to him.

His chest aches from where the man had restrained him (it was a man that grabbed him; he'd heard the deep grunts of effort over the panicked rushing of blood in his ears). A dull roar of a headache makes itself known, which is not a great combination when one's head feels like it is stuffed with cotton. Dry, abrasive concrete rests under his right cheek, and the distinct scent of bleach wafts in his nose. The area must have been cleaned recently. Re-purposed for this occasion, perhaps? To say it is uncomfortable to lay on is an understatement; especially with all the forming bruises.

 _Ayumi. . . Mitsuhiko. . .Genta. . .Haibara. . ._ . What happened to them? His eyelids flutter, and before he thinks better of it he opens them.

Darkness.

No matter how wide he opens his eyes, or how many times he blinks he cannot see. Fear ramps up another notch, making his heart beat faster and pushing away some of the fluff in his brain. He closes his slightly-open mouth in an attempt to swallow. His mouth and throat are dust dry, and he nearly coughs as the action makes his throat catch. He sucks on his tongue, trying for moisture. There is a funny yet familiar taste.

Chloroform. _Nasty._

Now he remembers the handkerchief with its tell-tale smell against his nose and mouth. It had been futile to hold his breath, but he held out for as long as he could; committing every detail of the event to memory _just in case_ he would live long enough to wake up.

In his peripherals he'd seen a white neck and brown mustache that almost formed a goatee, but the chin was clean-shaven. Not Gin, or Vodka, then. Heh, if Gin were behind this he'd be dead already. Could this kidnapping be the work of another operative who has figured out his true identity—like Irish?

 _No._ Conan remembers now; the children went to Genta's shortly after school to play yet another Kamen Yaiba video game. Like him, Haibara had bowed out, claiming she'd promised the professor she'd have her chores completed by a certain time. (She probably wanted to read one of her fashion magazines. Conan had caught sight of a new one the day before.) Since their homes are located in the same direction from Teitan Elementary, Conan and Haibara had naturally set off together. It had been _after_ they'd parted ways that Conan was grabbed. If his identity had been blown, then so to should have Haibara's. His captor would have went for both of them.

Unless. . .Haibara was captured after him, and is somewhere here within the pitch-blackness. But, still, why not have gone for both of them before they'd gotten so close to the professor's? Grabbing her from where she resides—where there is a witness—is messy. The Black Organization does not do messy.

Conan is probably their only target. For now, he'll assume his identity is still intact until evidence suggests otherwise. If this _is_ another repeat like his encounter with Irish, then all he can hope is his captor has an agenda that differs from the Organization. He is still alive, so an operative with a different agenda is possible. Maybe they could come to an agreement—like between him and Vermouth. . . . If what they have could be considered an agreement.

Maybe Vermouth set this up. . .

Maybe the Black Organization are not the only evil-doers in the world who wear all black.

After approximately fifteen minutes and no sounds of life nearby, Conan decides to move. He may as well since if a night-vision camera is trained on him anyone monitoring the footage should be well-aware he is awake. Besides, staying sprawled in one position for so long on concrete is painful, even without heavy bruises. It does not take him long to discover his possessions are missing, including his glasses and school uniform. Someone dressed him in thin shorts and a thin, two-sizes too big t-shirt. He smiles bitterly as he fingers the shirt's too-loose collar, automatically noting the cotton fabric.

 _Darkness so absolute one cannot see. Personal possessions taken. A great psychological tactic to deprive and break down the spirit. A good way to establish control. Smart. Professional._

Not good. He cannot stop the mantra of ' _It's Them!_ ' from repeating in his head, though he shouldn't be so quick to jump to conclusions. Maybe someone kidnapped him because of his connection to Detective Mouri. Regardless, the situation is not good.

Slowly, Conan stands, and wobbles; disoriented from both the aftereffects of the chloroform, and the darkness. Not a glow, or speck of light shines from any direction. It's the kind of darkness that seems to press against the eyes it is so absolute. Effectively blind, Conan stretches his arms out in front and begins to shuffle forward. It feels as if he is falling into a void, and almost immediately he loses balance and falls to his knees.

" _Umf_."

Ow. That stings. Bare knees on concrete are not a pleasant mix.

Feeling incredibly off-balance, he decides to crawl forward on his hands and knees, though his strained left arm protests. The chloroform shouldn't still be effecting him to this degree. Is lack of visual input throwing him off so badly? It takes a moment to understand his skewed sense of perception isn't just because of the inability to see; he is on a slight downgrade. It is roughly a meter before the tips of his fingers touch cold metal. The metal is pressed flat into the concrete floor, and is grated. Further inspection reveals it to be more than twice the size of his hand, and perfectly round. It must be a drain. What kind of room is he in? Most private residents in Japan do not have cellars. Such things as basements and cellars only get in the way with how often houses are knocked down and rebuilt. Could this room serve a specific purpose?

Needing to know more, Conan continues crawling forward, this time up the slight gradient. The room must be large as it takes a few minutes for his fingertips to brush a wall. More concrete. Getting closer, he presses a hand flat against the surface.

 _It's curved._ Strange. Using the wall as leverage, Conan slowly stands once more. This time he doesn't wobble. Keeping the whole of his right arm in contact with the wall, he follows alongside it. Patting the wall with both hands offers no defining features (or pattern of cracks) to help catalog the room. Another technique to deprive him of control? Is that why the room is circular—so there are no corners to measure distance, nor curl up in for a semblance of protection? This kidnapping is looking less and less like it has anything to do with his association to the Sleeping Sleuth. The focus is Conan himself, which means no ransom, or negotiation for his safe return.

Without his glasses—more specifically the tracking device inside them—no one will be able to find him. Of course, no one was in the immediate vicinity when he was snatched, so likely there are no witnesses to draw from—his capture was efficiently quick and quiet. To top it off, it would have been all-too-easy to put his limp body in a duffle bag and walk nonchalantly back to a private vehicle somewhere. That means no clues. . .if anyone is even aware of his situation yet. Wait. Ran should know something is wrong. Enough time has passed for her to notice his absence, right? If he doesn't text, or call her, then he goes straight to the detective agency after school. Judging by the strength of its aftereffects and the pungent taste in his mouth, the chloroform should have had him out for several hours at least. Ran should be flustered by now, having already called the Shōnen Tantei-dan's parents and spoken with each of them.

Hope tries to blossom in his chest, but he ruthlessly squashes it down. Even if Kogoro-ojisan were a competent detective, there are not enough clues (i.e. none) for a trail. There isn't even a sign of a struggle at the abduction site because Conan had been walking on the sidewalk and not anywhere with dirt. Not even Heiji would stand a chance of finding him before his _captors_ take action (chances are low that only one person is involved judging by the skillful abduction in correlation with this peculiar room ' _. . .it's Them, it's Them, it's Them. . .!_ '), regardless of it taking too long to travel from Osaka-fu to Beika-chō.

Conan takes a deep breath. _You've done enough panicking. Keep your wits._ The situation is bad, but to give in to fear is to give up. He continues exploring the curved wall. Several minutes later a couple of his fingers sink partially into a small hole. Conan stops to catalog it. The hole is too perfectly round for it not to have been made on purpose. It is about twenty centimeters above his head; only about four centimeters in diameter, and he can't feel how deep it is as his fingers do not come into contact with anything inside. Although, there is moisture. He pats the wall directly underneath. It's damp. He moves on, this time keeping careful track of his steps.

The only other distinguishing feature along the wall—within reach, anyway—is a large, metal rectangle set _into_ the concrete. Judging by the dimensions, it is most likely a door; although, it has no knob. . .or hinges for that matter. Surely he isn't sealed into this room of concrete. . . What good would that do his captors?

Conan pauses, back at the location of the hole in the wall; fingers wedged within it as if to anchor himself to the site. The circumference of the room, or rather storage area, is approximately seventy-five meters. A sizable scale. (Why use such a large area for tiny him?) Now that he knows the measurements he can start investigating the interior. After an excruciatingly slow (and paranoia-inducing) exploration (sight is truly a blessing!), Conan only rediscovers the drain in the middle of the floor. He exhales somewhat shakily in partial relief, glad he truly _is_ alone. He had more than half-expected hands to suddenly grab him, and had even held his breath to listen more than once as he'd thought he'd heard breathing behind him.

With nothing else to do, he shuffles back to the middle of the floor where the drain is located. He may be more knowledgeable of his surroundings, but not being able to see is off-setting, and makes it easy to lose track of where he is. He eases his sore body down and curls up beside the drain, facing toward the supposed door—which is more on the right than directly across from the hole. All he can do is wait with baited breath for the first sign from his captors. A drink of water would be amazing for the serious case of dry mouth he has, but he doubts he'll get any anytime soon. It wouldn't surprise him if deprivation of basic necessities ends up being part of the method of operation here—such is commonly used to deprive control, and his captors are determined to take away most if not all of his liberties.

As for _why_ his captors are depriving him, Conan wishes his analytical mind would stop considering because none of the possible reasons bode well, and worrying will do absolutely no good.

)*(

The next day. . .

"K-KKAAAAIII _TOOOOOOOO_ _OO_ _!_ "

"Ooh, I didn't know it was possible to shriek like that and still be intelligible, Aoko!" Kaito jeers with an infuriating smirk as he dances out of reach of first Aoko's fist, then her school satchel. Woo! She's pissed this time! He loses a bit of his smirk as her desk comes flying at him. A lurching side-step has the desk careening into the classroom's wall behind him. Aoko, radiating so much fury her long hair is nearly fluttering with it, reaches behind her for her chair. Their classmates are starting to worry for their personal safety.

"Ahoko! You're so mad over such a simple prank?!" If Kaito had known she would take it this poorly he would have been further away before initiating the setup—which was just a little device that had made her chair vibrate. Her knees jerking into the underside of her desk in surprised had brought her into contact with the objective (she'd have seen it if he'd put it in her seat to sit on). He hops atop a few desks, quickly putting distance between himself and his enraged best friend. Hopefully she'll think twice about throwing the chair with him this close to others. As she raises the chair over her head it's obvious she's too angry to be concerned. Immediately, Kaito changes direction and makes a bee-line onto Saguru's desk. May as well take advantage of this situation. The detective gazes up at him with a look that's partial disbelief, and all annoyance. Kaito spares a second to grin obnoxiously down at him, already preparing to leap out of harm's way.

"KUROBA KAITO! NAKAMORI AOKO! THAT IS ENOUGH! DO NOT DISTURB THE REST OF THE CLASS!" Konno-sensei barks.

Oops. While the teacher has long since given up on getting the pair to settle down, she will not tolerate the distraction of other students. Those nearby have already scrambled out of their seats to get out of the line-of-fire. Keiko is beginning to fidget nervously in her seat. Did Kaito really cross such a terrible boundary with his harmless prank this time? Flipping Aoko's skirt doesn't rile her up half this much! . . .Usually.

 _Girls have strange ideas on what's taboo!_ he thinks, half-confused, but amused nonetheless. "Ut!" He flips into a half twist off the desk, landing atop another as the chair flies—spinning, really. Aoko has a talent when it comes to throwing objects.

"Bhh!" Wide-eyed, Saguru slips down in his seat to avoid the large projectile and ends up mostly on the floor; allowing the chair to twirl harmlessly overhead and into the wall with a terrible clatter.

"Not bad, Hakuba, but more practice would do you good," Kaito remarks joyfully. Saguru pulls himself back into his seat and gives a pointed glare at the irksome prankster.

"REALLY, YOU TWO! THAT'S ENOUGH!" Konno-sensei's cheeks are starting to turn the same color as the frame of her glasses.

"Hai, hai!" Kaito appeases the teacher by making a break for the classroom door. Aoko's already running for it. Kaito barely gets there first, but it is enough of a lead that once out of the confines of the classroom his longer and faster stride takes him well out of her reach.

"Seriously?!" he yells over his shoulder at her, keeping one eye facing down the hall in front. "It was just a whoopee cushion!" A wonderful classic.

"YOU PICKED THE WRONG DAY TO PRANK AOKO WITH SUCH AN EMBARRASSING THING!" she yowls like a scalded cat. Kaito gulps as he faces forward and puts all his focus into running. 'Wrong day' translates to 'I'm on my #$ &%* period!'. Kaito plus Aoko plus hormonal surge equals pain if she's lucky enough to ever land a hit. . . .She won't stop with just one strike. She won't even be sorry until a few days later, even if he's _limping_.

A couple of rounded corners to get out of sight, a wire to pull a door closed (got to use just enough force to be heard or she'll know it's a false lead), a note, and a bar of chocolate later has Aoko giving up the chase with an exasperated huff and a grudging smile. In this section of their school a number of classrooms are vacant; courtesy of some remodeling scheduled for the near future. It's behind a door to one of these classrooms that Kaito watches as Aoko walks back the way they'd came, already tearing into her consolation prize of dark chocolate and mint. A very generous prize if one asks Kaito.

Getting so mad isn't good for your health, you know!

I guess you really are a girl if you're so up-tight about a

little noise. Course, that was a larger-than-normal

whoopee cushion. Hehe! Take this because I think you

need it. If you take it, though, you can't hit me later!

-Kaito

Soon Aoko is gone. Experience has him waiting a few minutes just to be sure. Satisfied with his mischief and followup good deed for the day, Kaito leaves the empty classroom and makes his way to the stairwell. May as well get some fresh air and let Aoko cool down before heading back. Since it's nearly September the summer heat is starting to give way to cooler temperatures. The day is slightly cool, the sun warm, and the breeze gentle atop Ekoda High's roof—a perfect late morning.

Kaito steps to the wire fence, his nose nearly touching the safety barrier as he gazes outward. He can see the school's track field. No one is currently using it. Familiar buildings and greenery are in the distance. It's peaceful. Suddenly, a nap seems like a fantastic idea. Sitting, he rolls languidly backward and props his feet onto the fence—the heels of his indoor shoes catching and holding in the large squares. His arms make a suitable pillow. He yawns once before drifting into an easy sleep. Why is it that he gets his best rest at school?

Some number of hours later an indeterminable noise catches his attention, rousing him instantly to full consciousness. By now he has changed position to lay comfortably on his side—facing the only entrance to the roof (it's habit now to guard his back). His senses go on alert, although his posture remains relaxed and his eyes closed. He can _feel_ that he is no longer alone. Footsteps begin to approach. By the timing of the stride, and by how loud the footfalls are he automatically notes the person is alone, male, and tall.

"I would appreciate being excluded from your and Aoko-kun's disagreements," a familiar and rather pompous voice says. Kaito doesn't react. The footsteps stop about a meter away. "I know you are awake, Kuroba-kun." Kaito halfway opens one blue-violet orb to glare at the detective, and then gives a jaw-popping yawn.

"I'm suppose to be the annoying one?" Kaito says when he can, stretching, appearing miffed before gazing at the other and donning a half-grin. "I'm just making sure you're as physically quick as you seem to think your brain is."

"Oh?" the blond replies, not the least bit riled. "Why would you feel the need?" Sanguine eyes stare intently at Kaito, and a blond eyebrow rises. Kaito feels his partial grin wanting to slip. He knows what's coming next when that psychoanalyzing expression crosses Saguru's face. "Is more trouble than normal brewing behind the scenes of your heists?"

Kaito instantly locks on his poker face, keeping his expression carefully the same before giving the expected frown. "Shouldn't you know by now that I'm not Kaitou Kid?" Kaito says in an aggrieved tone as he sits up. Inside, his mind is racing. Since when has Saguru caught on to Kid's unseen battle? How deep has he already dug? Without understanding what he's touching on, he could make himself a target and be taken out before he is even aware of _Them_.

"DNA doesn't lie, Kuroba-kun; unlike you," Saguru replies evenly. Kaito's eyebrows twitch as he squints up at the detective.

"And yet, DNA is useless in the case of identical twins. You've had me handcuffed to you, and Kaitou Kid still showed up and completed his heist—which was totally cool; that is, Kid is cool; not being handcuffed to you—and yet you're fixated on me being Kid. Really, Hakuba? You need to get over your obsession," Kaito finishes with a snark.

Saguru considers Kaito silently for a moment, though he is obviously resolute in his belief that Kaito is Kid. "Are you saying you have an identical twin, and he is Kaitou Kid?"

Kaito grumbles and jumps to his feet. Saguru is taller than him, so he is still looking up as he stares angrily at the blond. "No. Jeez. I'm making sure you stay in shape. It's no fun when you're not moving, right? But, you need to watch that nose of yours—that chair almost got you, and there's more than just a chair in the classroom." For a couple of seconds Kaito drops his mask of anger and lets true concern show. It's so unexpected that Saguru's mouth drops open a fraction. Just as quickly, Kaito retreats back behind the mask of anger, and marches to the door. Let the nosy detective make of that statement what he will. He needs to be warned, and it's not like Kaito exactly admitted to anything.

 _Stay sharp, or you will be killed. Don't investigate further—_

 _there is too much to start blind. Watch your back; you've already put yourself in danger._

At least, this is how Saguru is interpreting the cryptic entendre. However, even more astonishing than discovering Kid has a hidden agenda that involves bloodthirsty criminals. . .is Kid breaking cover to warn him. Just what is Kid involved in? How much danger is Kid. . .Kuroba. . .facing with his heists when even a mere hint of what is happening sub rosa has _Kaitou Kid_ afraid for those becoming aware?

Does it tie in with Kid's true purpose—because only in the beginning when Saguru had solely the police case reports to go by (of the heists before Kid's eight years of silence, and of the heists that started again just last year) did he consider Kid may be stealing simply for the thrill of doing so. However, as standoffish as Kuroba tries to be toward Saguru, he has come to understand that Kid is much more than a kleptomaniac daredevil. Considering current events, perhaps soon he will interpret what drives his troublesome classmate, as well as what drove the previous Kaitou Kid (no way was Kaito old enough to be Kid eight plus years ago). For now he will stay quiet, keep an ear to the ground, and move carefully so as not to stumble into any crosshairs. Saguru wouldn't deserve to be called a detective if he let fear get in the way of unraveling a mystery.

Especially a mystery that harbors Kaitou Kid's deepest secrets—secrets so dangerous that even the flashy and attention-loving thief chooses to deal with them in seclusion.

It is well after Kaito has left that he gives a small, but warm smile in the direction of the roof's access door.

"No one gets hurt, right?"

)*(

Oddly flustered, Kaito leaves school a tad early; not that it will matter in a few minutes. The last class for the day would be over if he tried to make it. Saguru must have requested to leave class just to catch him alone, but why? What has tipped the annoying detective off? Sure, Kaito glimpsed a few new figures playing in the shadows of his last two heists, but they haven't made any threatening attempts. . .yet. Dodging Snake and his lackey's pop shots have gotten trickier since the arrival of the strangers, meaning they probably work with and relay information to Snake. But, why have they revealed their presence?—to him _and_ a detective no less! It makes no sense.

If he'd been so inclined he could have cornered and confronted the newcomers. They'd given themselves away with either movement down museum corridors that served no tactical advantage—catching his eye; or making clicks or tapping sounds; or, strangely enough. . .alerting him by scent. Nothing with chemicals, but more like a heavy muskiness reminiscent of a zoo, but without the pungent smell of manure. Kaito's sense of smell has always been decent, but he never thought he'd be able to scent a person beyond a perfuse application of perfume. Who applies perfume that smells like animals, though? What are their code names—Horse and Rhinoceros? Heh!

It doesn't add up. Snake may not be the most skillful of agents, but why would he work alongside a group that is determined to make their target and outsiders aware of their involvement? It just doesn't make sense. Snake and the organization he works for have always been covert in their confrontations against Kaitou Kid; it is how they have eluded scrutiny even when attending such conspicuous events as Kid heists. Although, admittedly, Kaito purposely works to keep the Task Force _safely_ occupied with traps and misdirection. (No one can be allowed to stumble onto organization operatives too soon. That would spell death for any investigator.) Why work alongside others willing to disregard secrecy? Now, Saguru is aware. It is only a matter of time before Nakamori-keibu and the Task Force also become aware. Ugh! If Nakamori-keibu discovers a dangerous group infringing on the Kaitou Kid heists it will be impossible to warn the headstrong inspector off. . . .It will be Kaito's fault if the worst happens, and Aoko is left without _both_ her parents. Kaito wouldn't be able to bear that.

How to handle this frangible situation?

Kaitou Kid is strictly non-violent, but perhaps Kid needs to confront Snake in a most annoying, and loud fashion (what better way to handle delicate operations?) to remind the criminal (and the organization he works for) why it is a good idea to not draw attention. Perhaps the organization will stop using the not-so-discreet group, and then everything can go back to normal. Erm. . .perhaps normal isn't the most appropriate word for Kid heists. Normal is synonymous for _boring_ , which Kaito never is _thank you very much._

Before he makes it onto the sidewalk something cold seems to manifest over his left shoulder. It has him turning his head to regard it, and then for some reason his gaze is drawn to his classroom windows on the second floor. Two shivers race down his spine as—even from this distance—Akako's blood-red eyes pierce his. She mouths something before giving a severe frown.

" _Caster meets his immortal half when the night is forced into its darkest point. After morning comes, the relief of noon will be nigh impossible. The twins will force night to come again, spiraling into a new dawn with Thanatos near. Armageddon waits eagerly behind one of two horizons. Be careful, Kuroba-kun."_

Kaito _hates_ it when she does that, and he makes sure she knows it by the flat stare he gives her in return. She simply walks out of sight of the window, leaving him to carry on about his business—which he would have been very happy to do without her warning. Stretching his arms over his head, Kaito strolls off the school's property with another yawn. Darn that Hakuba-no-yarō for waking him from his precious nap! Oh well, what's on today's agenda?

Usually any free time is swallowed by caring for or creating new equipment, studying languages and cultures, scouting, fitness training, vocal training, impersonation training (subconscious tells are incredibly difficult to curb!), cosmetics and clothing shopping (OH! mmts NaKano is having a special this afternoon and there is this really cute combo of leggings, sandal heels, and matching drawstring purse that Kaito wants), the list of things to do never ends. . . Kaito sighs. He'll need to go home and disguise himself as female if he wants to do some feminine shopping without drawing strange looks.

Since he's dressing up he may as well head over to Ekoda Konpa for dinner and a virgin cocktail; although, he's sure he could order the potent Ekoda-no-yoru if he wanted since he can easily disguise himself to look over twenty. His invented persona Kikuko Mei appears to be in her early twenties, and 'she' is already a well-known customer at Ekoda Konpa (as well as other local hot spots). Maybe Yurina Rumi will be there as usual, and she and 'Mei-chan' can entertain the regulars with some bar stool karaoke. It is such a fun way to unwind and train at the same time. Darn it. . .as much as he is trying not to think on Akako's warning (does thinking about it give it power?), his mind keeps turning it over on the back burner.

Okay, fine; he has nothing better to do while walking home. Thinking on it makes his expression sour, but whatever. Castor and his immortal half are easy—they are the Gemini twins of Greek lore Castor and Pollux. According to western astrology, Kaito's star sign is Gemini, so the warning is likely referring to him directly. Who is his immortal half? His alter ego? No, that doesn't seem right. For one thing he can't meet himself, and Kaitou Kid is not immortalized yet. Well, he's not immortalized around the world, but he sure does have a lasting place in the hearts of his officers in Division 2.

"Kekeke!" The silly laugh slips out, shifting his sour expression toward something brighter. That feels better. Negative emotions are so heavy and such a waste of energy.

Kaito, along with several others traveling on foot, make it to the crosswalk just as the light turns green to cross. Lady Luck does like to indulge him sometimes. He absently listens to the noise of the surrounding crowd as he continues to breakdown Akako's disturbing words. Where do her fortunes come from, anyway?

There isn't enough information to deduce who is represented by the immortal Pollux, so it's likely a person Kaito hasn't met yet. Although, for a stranger, it sounds as if this person (if it is a person) is closely connected to him. The immortal part couldn't possibly have anything to do with Pandora, could it? Odd. Regardless, he and this other have to be similar in some fashion to be characterized as twins.

A notion flashes in his eidetic memory, and like lightning it starts networking the information into a conclusion that makes his stomach drop. Rather than be struck dumb and still, his body switches to autopilot to keep himself walking normally, though his expression completely flat-lines. Please, _please_ , let him be jumping to the wrong idea. Please, once he breaks it down properly, let the pieces fall into a prettier picture. Because if Akako's warning is referring to _that person_ , then all hell is about to break loose. Why does the witch have to share her spooky magic mumbo-jumbo with him?

He shouldn't have read her lips. . . It was rather dumb of him to do so when he wants no part of her, or her red magic.

With a simple blink Kaito pushes the thought of the warning along with all the trepidation it inspires to the back of his mind. It has become a need to remain aware at all times, and the warning. . .premonition. . .is causing his thoughts to spin and him to lose too much focus of his surroundings to be comfortable. Luckily, his quaint two-story home is only a few blocks away, and soon enough he is stepping out of his shoes in the genkan and making his way upstairs to his room. It's only when he reaches his room does he remember the bookbag he left in the 2-B classroom. Fantastic. . .

High school does nothing to engage him, so it is no wonder how he forgot something as unimportant as his school supplies. However, Aoko will undoubtedly swing by to drop his bookbag off with a lecture. She will probably gripe about him leaving without her, too. Groaning, Kaito decides to take a quick shower (no more thinking of the witch's premonition!) before heading to the secret room to put his evening outfit together. 'Mei-chan' wants to have a good time and look 'her' best, and since it is almost autumn there is a combination in particular he wants to try. Of course, he'll have to wait until Aoko comes, and then leaves before changing.

Thankfully, Aoko drops by sooner rather than later.

"Bakaito!" she yells when he opens the front door, causing him to immediately stick both index fingers in his ears and grimace. "I know school isn't a challenge for you, but that doesn't give you the right to skip! You could have at least went back for your stuff instead of troubling Aoko with it!" She punctuates the end of her sentence by throwing his red bookbag at him. Kaito removes his fingers from his ears to catch it. The momentum has it hitting his stomach anyway, and it makes him cough. Yep, Aoko sure has a talent when it comes to throwing things.

"I didn't ask you to bring it, Ahoko," he huffs, moving the bookbag to one hand so he can take the other and rub his aching stomach (book corners are no joke). He turns, walking further into the house to give Aoko the opportunity to either come in, or leave. She is still carrying her school satchel so she hasn't been by her place yet. Even he isn't so rude as to run her off; whether he has a powerful hankering to go on a clothes shopping spree, or not.

"What are friends for, idiot?" she says at a more normal volume. He looks back at her and she smiles before sticking her tongue out at him. He smiles back and snorts.

"You coming in?" Blue eyes take in the fact that she isn't stepping inside and taking off her shoes. Aoko shakes her head.

"No. Aoko's in the mood to cook and there is a great recipe Aoko found online that Aoko wants to try; especially since tou-san called and said he may be home early. Want to come over for dinner?" Her tone is just the slightest bit hopeful. Kaito's smile fades, causing her own to follow suit as her gaze travels to the floor. She isn't surprised. For a while now Kaito has been doing his own thing in the evenings. He rarely comes over for breakfast, or dinner anymore. Aoko is actually starting to miss Kaito's complaints about her cooking.

"I have some shopping to do, and you know how long I can be when it comes to shopping. I think I'd rather eat something quick and simple when I'm done. But. . ." he says, and drapes his school bag over his right shoulder as he walks over to her. With a flourish of his left hand a Bluebell suddenly sprouts between his fingers, and her gaze is drawn to the lovely flower. ". . .save me some for breakfast?" He gives a hopeful smile that is all teeth.

Aoko sighs fondly and accepts the flower that symbolizes gratitude, drawing it toward her nose to catch the faintly sweet scent. As she does so, she looks up at Kaito, mulling his request over. It has to be one of those great mysteries of life how Kaito always has a flower that corresponds correctly with the moment on him _somewhere_ , and it is always presented immaculately. How does the irksome prankster of an idiot manage to be (not that she'd admit it to anyone) an impressively suave magician when he wants to be? It should be against the laws of nature.

"Okay, but you better be sitting at the kitchen table by six-thirty sharp if you want to be fed." Her smile is a shark's grin.

"Uuwah! Evil!" Kaito shudders, looking suddenly haggard.

"You bet! Consider it your punishment for all you put Aoko through." Aoko turns her nose up as she leaves.

"B-but I gave you chocolate!" Kaito sputters, dropping his bookbag to run and catch himself in the doorway; watching as his best friend follows the worn grassy path to next-door.

"And Aoko didn't render you unconscious," she remarks without looking back.

"It was _just_ a whoopee cushion!" he shouts, incredulous. The sharp glare she throws over her shoulder has Kaito backing out of the doorway, and meekly closing the door. Never mind. Women are invincible once a month, and right now Aoko is untouchable.

Once again in the secret room, Kaito looks at himself in the full-length mirror. A little latex goes a long way, and he's used just a few skin-tone pieces to round his jawline and give his face a softer appearance. Now it's time for the fun part—applying the makeup. First the primer, then powder foundation (liquid foundation is a HUGE no-no), and some concealer. A touch of highlighter, a dusting of blush, a swipe of light-gold across his lids, and a slightly orangish-gold blend underneath the outer edges of his lower lashes, a bit of eyeliner, and it's finished with shimmering pink lipstick (Fluttering Sighs, his favorite).

The techniques for applying makeup are nearly endless. He's chosen to brighten and draw attention to his eyes—the gold tones contrasting against his blue practically make them glow. His cheeks are more pronounced, while the contours of his nose are less noticeable, and his cupid's bow is more defined and his lips appear plumper. He smiles in satisfaction.

The young woman staring back at him is Kikuko Mei, and though he did not do much to change his appearance, the only evidence of Kuroba Kaito is his hair and boyish casual wear. That can be remedied easily! Kaito pulls on a hairnet, making sure all of his natural hair is tucked underneath. On the right side of the mirror stands a female mannequin displaying long, wavy brown hair and a gorgeous multicolored maxi dress. Earlier while waiting for Aoko he'd dyed the brown wig tips white, and created snake braids to follow the back of the crown, and flow down.

He lifts the dress up and unclips the strapless black lace bra from the mannequin's chest. The cups are already filled out with C-size saline inserts (saline feels more realistic than silicone. . .not that Kaito would allow someone to fondle him!) covered with skin-tone latex. The modified bra makes it a breeze to slip in and out of disguise in a hurry. It's better than having a fake bust glued on, and he doesn't have to sacrifice the realistic appearance if he uses just a touch of latex to blend the edges of the inserts to his chest. He does just that after stripping to his matching black lace panties, then he's slipping the ankle-length maxi dress over his head.

It settles perfectly over his shoulders as the bottom portion flutters passed his legs and comes to a stop. He gives a twirl just to feel the dress move before facing the mirror again. The top of the dress looks like a short-sleeve black top with a see-through collar and shoulder area shaped like large maple leaves. The bottom portion flows loosely and is made up of a silky golden skirt topped by a sheer fabric decorated with Foxglove flowers and a radiant green gradient. It's beautiful, even if it is only suppose to be casual.

Reaching for the mannequin again, he grabs the wig, adjusts it into position, and clips it through the hairnet and anchors it to his actual hair; reducing the chance that it'll be tugged or blown off. He looks back into the mirror and carefully fluffs the wig with his fingers. He arranges the fringe, and pulls the medium-length sides to lay in front of his shoulders while the long-length of the rest splays down his back. The snake braids look elegant, and the white tips add just enough flare. It's a fine line to balance bold color combinations and not become a human peacock, and he's managed to coordinate perfectly. Bright eyes look to the mannequin's feet.

Nestled between the plastic feet are white T-strap stilettos. Positioning them before his own feet, he expertly steps into and buckles them. Now only a few details and his transformation will be complete. Kaito sashays over the black-and-white checker tiles to the metal shelves close to the stairs where a large light-pink square case rests. Opening it reveals three trays full of acrylic nails and decorating accessories. He plucks the ten oval ones he'd polished earlier (a light-gold coated with a nearly opaque layer of shimmering dark green sparkles) from the dainty modeling hands one by one, and with a little nail glue and tiny brush, sticks them with quick precision to each of his own nails. This nail glue is a special concoction he made himself, so after only a minute he trusts that it's dry enough for him to grab his white clutch purse. Within it are a couple of simple silver drop earrings that he clips onto the lobes of his ears.

He gives one last check in the full-length mirror to make sure everything is in order. Taking one hand, he lifts his long hair and lets it fall in waves across his back. The dress seems to flutter around his ankles even without him moving. Satisfied, he takes a deep breath and reaches for Kikuko Mei's character. It isn't difficult—she is a lot like his normal self; although, rather than his crescent grin, what reflects back at him is Mei's zesty smile. She shines with the love for life and laughter.

"Oh! Can't forget that!" Kaito hustles back to the metal shelves and scoops up a small bottle of fragrance oil. It is easier to direct and lasts a lot longer than spray perfume, plus it is easy to get off if one knows how. He dabs some of the apple and clover scent behind both ears and along both wrists. Juicy, refreshing, and simple irresistible! Blue eyes shift to the analog clock on the wall. Not bad. He wasn't necessarily trying to hurry, and it only took him fifteen minutes to get ready.

"Mei is ready to go shopping!" He pumps his purse up and down in delight before heading up the stairs. Time to go and get a few new outfits while the discounts are on. Oh, yeah! Watch out shoppers because he's got the quickest hands and he'll snatch everything off hangers and run before the others can even squabble over who has dibs. He can scramble in stilettos just as easy as loafers.

Hours later after Kaito has bounced from department to department, squeeing and parading around the dressing rooms, he finally checks out with nine large bags and three small ones in tow. Admittedly, he went overboard, but who could possibly resist those cute hipster panties; or the bandeau bras; or the elegant, off-the-shoulder butterfly print chiffon top; or the white beach blouse with pom-pom trim; or the artsy dip hem batwing blouse; or black scalloped skinny pants; or the black ripped stretchy pants; or the blue boyfriend jeans; or all those fantastic boots and stilettos; or all those dazzling earrings? No one with a fashion sense, that's for sure. Ahh! Life is great.

Is it any wonder why Kaitou Kid disguises most often as women?

Except. . .maybe he should have gotten that floppy hat after all. He pauses, swaying with the weight of his purchases, debating whether of not to walk back in the store. The hats aren't on discount, and therefore are technically off-limits, but the one would match so well with the outfit he came for.

No! He succumbed to enough impulses in the store already; he won't spend all of his money.

Another couple of hours later, Kaito is seated at the bar counter in Ekoda Konpa with the floppy hat perched on his head and a couple more boxes inside bags nestled among the crowd of others at his feet. He sighs, managing to be only mildly regretful at how light his purse is now. Why didn't he limit himself by bringing a set amount of yen?

Pssh! Because he'd have regretted it more if he hadn't had the option to splurge. Every now and again it isn't bad to go all out.

"What's on the menu tonight, Mei-chan?" the bartender Ikeda asks as he comes near from the opposite side of the counter with a bowl of roasted edamame. A couple of raised straps from the plethora of bags catch his eye and he leans forward to see Kaito surrounded by his purchases. Ikeda gives a long whistle. "I know you're a classy girl, but are you going to be able to afford anything else tonight?" Kaito answers with a glaring pout. "Okay, sorry," the well-groomed man says with a chuckle, "what would you like?"

"Just a water with lemon," he answers in Mei's smooth and sweet contralto tones, staring resolutely down at the polished bar as his cheeks slowly begin to redden. It's embarrassing that he came and can't even order a proper drink, but he hates cooking. At least here he'll get a free snack and not burn anything and everything out of impatience. As expected, Ikeda laughs heartily. At least it's a slow night for Ekoda Konpa and not many people are around to witness his foolhardiness. He doesn't want 'Mei' to be thought of as asinine and high-maintenance. Thankfully most everyone is solely focused on what could be half a store at his feet.

"I knew it!" Ikeda boasts as he walks off. "I'll be right back." Kaito scowls, though he can only blame himself for being virtually broke. Ravenous, he digs into the bowl of edamame as he waits for his water. It feels good just to sit down before he heads back home. No matter how good his stamina, all those hours of shopping in stilettos were rough. Totally worth it for the leg and bun workout they gave, though. It's a great way to maintain an athletic shape and good fitness level without building too much muscle.

Stilettos aren't just for show, and they can also come in handy for other things; although, more often than not those 'other things' ruin the shoes, and Kaito will cry if he ever has to sacrifice another pair. How he misses his teal glitter stiletto knee-high boots. Those had fit like a glove, and looked amazing.

Tossing more edamame into his mouth, he absently glances around the cozy bar for Rumi. He'd noticed when walking in that she wasn't seated anywhere, and she usually sits at the counter. Maybe tonight is one of the nights she won't stop by. Perhaps he should be on his way as well. The smell of food cooking is almost too delicious to bear on an empty stomach, even with the free snack.

"Thank you, Ikeda-san," he says when the bartender returns moments later and slides over his drink with a straw already in it. After giving the lemon slice a firm squeeze, Kaito slurps down a quarter of the icy water. It's heavenly. "I won't be staying long."

"That's not like you. You're a social butterfly. Why are you depriving me of my entertainment tonight?" Ikeda asks with friendly curiosity.

Kaito's mind wonders to the mystery dinner Aoko made. No doubt the dinner has long since been served and put away.

"I have some business at home to attend to," he says airily before grabbing his stomach and attempting to strangle the growl before it can be heard. Unfortunately, there is no stopping the roar of starvation. Kaito yanks the floppy hat lower on his head as Ikeda laughs at him again.

"Important business, indeed," the bartender says.

"Shut up," Kaito mutters sourly.

"Now, now. Is that anyway to talk to someone who is cooking you dinner?"

"Eh?" Kaito peeks out from under the hat, looking equal parts bewildered and shamefully hopeful. "No way! I can't pay for it."

"Consider it my thanks for being so entertaining. Ever since you and Rumi-chan started coming here, our regulars have been happier and drop in more often."

"Huh. Sounds like Rumi-chan and I have been hired to work. I guess I'll trade laughs for food, then," he says happily.

Ikeda made him the biggest salad with all the works (fruits, veggies, cheeses, lintels and the perfect blend of seasonings) and the best batch of mouth-watering bread sticks. Kaito wasn't sure he could walk after such a feast, but he eventually got himself and his insane number of shopping bags home. Although, he almost fell asleep in the warm bath, which is a perfect way to end a shopping spree.

For the first time in weeks Kaito falls easily asleep in his bed; however, black figures with guns follow him in his dreams. A burned-out torch is always near his feet on the barren ground, and ever to his right is a void so dark it swallows all scraps of light. Something tugs on his pants leg. Kaito looks down to see his favorite critic, and nearly jumps because the faux-child is pallid and skeletal. The image is so disturbing that he has no trouble meeting Aoko at six-thirty. Thank goodness for Aoko. She's a wonderful distraction, even if he does get a saucepan to the face. Dream or not, something isn't right. He can _feel_ it just as surely as when someone enters the same room as him. It's making him restless, and more obnoxious than usual. . .which Aoko does not appreciate first thing in the morning; as his squashed nose is painfully reminding him.

At least the soy-broth, stir-fried mushroom, and cabbage udon is good. When the image of a half-dead critic is mostly forgotten and his appetite returns, Kaito digs in heartily. Aoko is happy for the majority of the day afterward. . .until round neon stickers somehow mysteriously keep appearing stuck to random places on her. Then Kaito is again running for his life through Ekoda High when she finds a smiley face sticker on each of her butt cheeks.


	2. Chapter Two: Tender Blue

)*(

CHAPTER TWO: TENDER BLUE

Takagi Wataru draws in a stiff breath before answering his cell phone.

" _Takagi-keiji, please tell me you've found Conan-kun!_ " Mouri Ran's worried voice immediately rushes over the tiny speaker and cracks with exhaustion. She obviously hasn't slept in a while. Wataru's heart aches for the Mouris, and their missing ward. Working to stay professional, he keeps his voice calm as he chooses his words carefully.

"We haven't found him yet, Ran-san, but I'm sure we will soon. Conan-kun is smart. Wherever he is, he's okay. We'll find him, and I'll call you as soon as we do."

" _I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have bothered you, but. . .this isn't like him, and I've searched every place I can think of! He's always finding trouble, and I'm so afraid that this time. . . !_ " her voice catches at the end, and it's obvious she's trying not to breakdown into tears.

One of the toughest duties an officer undertakes is speaking with distressed family members; especially ones they are well-acquainted with. Aware of Conan's penchant for danger, Megure Juzo—along with the support of the entire station—pulled out all the stops to find the kid. Wataru wants to remind Ran of this, and perhaps alleviate some of her frantic worry. He takes another stiff breath.

"We'll find him, Ran-san. Between all of Tokyo's Police Department, and your father the Sleeping Kogoro, Conan-kun will be home soon. A city-wide alert has been issued. The hospitals have been informed just in case a child matching his description is brought in. Sato-keiji and Miyamoto-keiji made sure that by yesterday evening all major businesses in Beika were displaying Conan-kun's missing persons fliers. For precautionary measures the airports have been notified, and so have the ports. It won't be long now." Legitimately, he knows he shouldn't assure her of Conan's safety when the worst case scenario is possible, but he can't stand how lost the normally vibrant young woman sounds. Besides, he can't believe that Conan-kun would get himself into a mess he couldn't get out of. The boy is eerily self-reliant and resourceful. Cunning, even.

What has led to this mysterious disappearance? According to both Kogoro and Ran, Conan's attitude has not changed recently, so it is highly unlikely he ran off without telling anyone. His friends adamantly stated when questioned that he never mentioned wanting to run away. Conan had even walked one of the girls home before heading in the direction of the detective agency, which is not far from her residence. She testified that Conan intended to go straight home. Additionally, Conan isn't the type to wander off without reason, and it is completely out-of-character for him not to discuss any plans with Ran.

Either Conan got hurt somewhere along the way and is unable to call for help (a dead battery would explain why his cell phone couldn't be tracked), or. . .he has been kidnapped. If by chance Conan is stuck injured somewhere, he needs to be found by tomorrow night at the latest. Otherwise, unless Conan happens to have access to water. . .

If this is a kidnapping case, why hasn't Kogoro received a ransom notice yet? Usually, kidnappers contact the family within twenty-four to forty-eight hours of the abduction. They are still (barely) within the four-eight hour period, so it's possible Kogoro will be contacted; if Conan really has been taken.

The likelihood of a kidnapping becomes more plausible with each passing hour. Someone should have found Conan if he'd gotten himself hurt along the short distance to the detective agency. Between him, Chiba, Kogoro, and Ran they covered a near two kilometer radius centered where Conan was last seen—no corner left unexplored, and no person left unquestioned. That is a lot of ground.

" _I'm going to check the library and park one more time, and then I'll walk around again and ask if anyone has seen him,_ " Ran says, sounding a mite steadier.

Wataru shakes his head to dispel morbid thoughts. "Don't overdo yourself. We've got a number of people searching already. I'm currently on 4-chōme Avenue heading toward the Post Office. Chiba-keiji is searching Haido, Sato-keiji has made it all the way to Nakano, and Shiratori-keibu is covering Teito just in case. Get some rest, Ran-san." Because she needs it, and needs to know she can rely on the police. Even if Division One generally deals with murder cases, with no major on-going cases Megure-keibu wasted no time in ordering the extra manpower be put to use.

" _I have to do something. Thank you, Takagi-keiji. I'm not sure where we would be without you, or the rest of the police force._ "

"Take care, then. I'll be in touch," he says, ending the call. No doubt Miwako has burnt rubber through most of Nakano by now. By the time they find Conan (because they _will_ find him) she'll probably need new tires for her Mazda. Any moment now one of the officers will find a lead and report in, or someone will have seen Conan and alert the station, or Conan will find a way to call home.

 _Please, Conan-kun, if you really have been kidnapped you must have found a way to leave us a sign. Where is it? Where are you?_

Six months ago he might have thought it strange to hold so much faith in a young boy, but Conan is no ordinary child. That much Wataru is certain of. He can still hear the words spoken when they were about to die trapped together with that sensitive bomb in the Tokyo Tower elevator.

" _Oh. Well, if you really want to know. . . Then I'll tell you. In the next world."_

"It's too soon for you to be in the next world," he says out loud, increasing his pace to that of a jog. Surely someone has the information they're looking for.

)*(

The only thing keeping Haibara Ai functioning is the fact her and the professor have yet to meet with an unfortunate accident. If _They_ were behind Conan's disappearance then she would have been killed before becoming aware of the situation yesterday. Why, then? Why hasn't Conan contacted them via his detective badge? Why can't she track him using the spare set of tracking glasses?

He's vanished without a trace. It's just like whenever _They_ are involved.

She doesn't miss the worried side-glance the professor gives her as he sets down a cup of green tea on the coffee table in front of her. This morning she had made the professor call the elementary school and say she was sick. She didn't eat dinner last night, and she hasn't eaten anything today though it is passed noon. Ai takes the offered cup and gives a sardonic smile.

"He must have stumbled onto some great and terrible case. I just hope that death magnet hasn't become a corpse himself."

Hakase Agasa Hiroshi, having just taken a sip of his own tea, chokes after hearing Ai's words.

"Really now," he says from the kitchen, where he's had to fetch a dish towel to dab his mouth and tea-stained shirt front, "you know Shinichi can handle himself." An undertone of concern belies his words. Ai turns her head to stare out the living room window, ending the conversation before it can begin. The professor stares into his cup of tea.

Not even upgrading the spare glasses with a more powerful tracking system had revealed any clues to the shrunken detective's whereabouts. Could both Shinichi's glasses and badge have been damaged in whatever happened? Surely he is still in the country. Most kidnappers wouldn't risk traveling through areas of high security, preferring instead to stay fairly close to decrease the chances of being caught in transit. Hakase Agasa takes his tea into his makeshift office.

Shinichi no longer has a satellite communication device installed in his wristwatch since using it when aboard the Aegis proved its riskiness. It's too easy for outsiders to pick up the signal, hence the continued reliance on burst communication technology in the detective badges. The range is limited, but it is much more difficult to track, and the frequency is nearly impossible to hack. However, maybe he can use that walkie-talkie he's been tinkering with and create a booster that can communicate with the detective badges at a much further range.

It won't do any good if Shinichi's badge has suffered extensive damage, but it is better than sitting around doing nothing.

)*(

Kaito never thought he'd want to hear Saguru's annoying voice for any reason, but there is one way he likes hearing those smug tones. The blond detective's pompous and airy manner of speaking took on a rather high and delightful warble after suffering one of Kaito's pranks earlier. It marks the first time he has managed to fluster the emotionally contained bastard. All because of a sticker.

Sure that heirloom pocket watch is snazzy and only loses 0.001 seconds per year (how many times has he heard that?), but stealing the object didn't garner much of a reaction. Once discovered missing, Saguru had simply approached Kaito between classes and asked for his beloved watch back. Of course, Kaito feigned innocence, and a short while later Saguru found his watch back in its appropriate pocket. Because of that, later on Kaito thought nothing of using a sticker to make the face appear cracked. If the glass were actually damaged it would only be an inconvenience, but no! Upon discovering the sticker near lunch time, Saguru gave a strangled yelp, and ended up swearing a litany in British English. Even more surprising was the backlash after Saguru discovered the cracks were fake, and his beloved pocket watch was perfectly unharmed.

Needless to say class was disrupted. By mister formal arrogance himself! Score a huge win for Kaito. Poor Konno-sensei is used to having two rambunctious students run around during class, but today she had three. Kaito is proud. Now he is not only hiding from Aoko, whom is still upset about finding stickers on her rump (he used his special sticky goo to _glue_ those smiley faces on the back of her skirt), but from Saguru as well.

With two people casing the building for him—one being meticulous about it and showing the other how to coordinate efforts—he's already had to ditch the janitor's closet and weasel to the neglected classroom on the first floor. Honestly, sneaking back and forth passed two people is a cakewalk, but right now he wants to be left alone. The roof tile in the north-west corner is loose and a perfect place to stash goods of just about any caliber.

The goods he's currently stashing is himself. So long as one doesn't mind sharing space with dust bunnies, then the area isn't so bad. With his electronic tablet, a candy bar, and a juice box he can easily stay stretched out on the nearest support beam for the rest of the school day. Easy peasy.

 _DOON!_

"KYYYAAHHHH!" comes the distant scream of Aoko. They must have finally finished checking the upper floors and made it to the bottom floor, and Aoko must have been the unlucky one to open the 1-D classroom door and trip the glitter bomb. It'll take weeks to get out of her hair. Even without his special formula mixed in, that stuff is obnoxious. Kaito has to clamp both hands over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Sounds carry within a roof space because everything is connected and there are no walls to act as a buffer, though plenty of air conditioned vents are running; Kaito would rather err on the side of caution.

Nothing happens for a while after that, leaving Kaito plenty of time to himself. The biochemistry article he's looked up does little to hold his attention, and he sighs. Is he restless because of the nightmare this morning? Though rare, nightmares are nothing new. It has to be Akako's fault. She shared her juju.

 _Caster meets his immortal half when the night is forced into its darkest point. After morning comes, the relief of noon will be nigh impossible. The twins will force night to come again, spiraling into a new dawn with Thanatos near. Armageddon waits eagerly behind one of two horizons._

Nothing about the riddle is concrete; it's just a nice serving of paranoia on a platter. The operative words _night_ , _morning_ , _noon_ , and _dawn_ all speak of the passage of time, but that's all that can be taken from them. It's more or less telling the sequence of actions meant to take place—which is _darkest point_ and then a _relief_ that is almost impossible to obtain. Darkest point can be taken as lowest point. Something terrible is about to happen to him? Then there is force, which is used twice. Undoubtedly, it is a keyword, and probably the only bit that could be taken literally. Someone will force a terrible event, and then he and 'Pollux' will have to force the nearly impossible to get themselves out of it. . .a new dawn. . .forever changed?

Caster and his immortal half together are Gemini. Gemini, Thanatos, and Armageddon share Greek origin and translation.

He and another person represent Gemini; Thanatos represents death, and Armageddon is an end. Absolutely fantastic! All that can be gleaned is something will happen to bring him and another person together, and they will have the barest chance of getting out of the frying pan alive. It's even worse if he plugs the truncated critic into the mess—which, sadly, makes perfect sense not only because of their similar appearance, but because turning back into a child could be taken as a form of immortality. Hello, Pollux!

Then Gemini becomes Kid and the Kid Killer. The first night translates to a heist. Forced translates to. . .captured—which would be his lowest point. Morning translates as the passing of an unknown amount of time (no clocks wherever they end up?—maybe he should have kept Saguru's pocket watch). Relief translates to improbable escape (during which he has to use force?).

Basically, during a heist, Kaitou Kid will be abducted (how is that possible?) and so will the tiny Kudou Shinichi, but together they will narrowly escape. Eh. . . He'd rather not get abducted; especially since it would compromise his civilian persona. However, that's not even the worst part of the premonition.

 _The twins will force night to come again, spiraling into a new dawn with Thanatos near._ After escaping there is a change that happens beyond their control. . .and it involves death. Truthfully, that's nothing new as far as the runt is concerned. Still. . .death and Kid don't mix well. He'd rather not be the cause of anyone dying.

 _Armageddon waits eagerly behind one of two horizons._ A choice will come that can bring an end. Question is, whose ending? Staying in line with the theme of the premonition, 'ending' probably means death, so regardless of whose ending, Kaito would rather take option number two and give the route to Armageddon a wide berth.

Great. Now he's twitchy. Curse bad juju! Why does Akako feel the need to warn him when just knowing _something_ is going to happen won't do any good? It's like a sixth sense that's screwed up. Why couldn't she tell him how to avoid it? Pfft. Whatever. If someone (the not-so-discreet group he's seen at heists lately?) wants to abduct the great Kaitou Kid they better be ready to work for it!

The thought of abduction and death is too frazzling. Still feeling twitchy, and getting annoyed by it, Kaito reaches for the juice box under the beam he's laying atop of, and misjudges. It tips over with a small _thunk_ against the ceiling tile. Crap. Hopefully no one heard that. Staying absolutely still and holding his breath, Kaito cranes an ear and listens.

A whisper? Saguru? No way. They couldn't have been patiently waiting for him to make a noise. For one thing, he almost never makes noise unless it's on purpose. Wait. . .it's Saguru. . .he often stands in one place for a while to observe and think.

Curse Akako's bad juju! This is her fault!

A herd of foot stomps (Aoko's) precede the loose tile exploding upward along with the juice box as a mop swings in blindly with the force of a hurricane.

"IIIYYAAAAAAA!" Kaito screams in a overly girly manner, mostly for the fun of it, partially because he's trapped. He could maneuver through all the beams, ducts, and wires to go loosen another tile elsewhere, but Saguru is likely listening for him. Without any equipment on-hand he can't loosen roof tile quietly.

Finally, after the tip of the mop's threads have whisked his hair and stung his arms a number of times, Aoko loses steam and the mop is yanked out of sight. It so happens to have snagged his juice box.

"BAKAITO! COME DOWN HERE AND TAKE WHAT YOU DESER—ow. . ."

At least the traitorous juice box got what it deserved. It fell on Aoko's hard head.

"No way, you armed she-man!" Kaito yells.

"YOU HAVE PESTERED HAKUBA-KUN AND AOKO TOO MUCH FOR ONE DAY! TIME FOR THE CONSEQUENCES!"

"Nope!" he disagrees.

The mop comes up a second time, and Kaito's ready. When the mop head swings close he swiftly buries a color-patterned smoke bomb within its threads. A bit of his special sticky goo has it secured. It starts smoking gray almost immediately, and Aoko notices. Fearing she's somehow managed to start a fire (maybe she hit some electrical wiring?) she yanks the mop back down.

"What did Aoko do?" She examines the smoking threads. Kaito leans over to look down and see, and nearly bursts out laughing. With all the glitter bits and glitter letters, Aoko looks like a kindergarten art project came to life and threw up on her.

"THROW IT!" Saguru shouts from the direction of the classroom entrance.

Too late. The bomb explodes in a multicolored plume of smoke that instantly fills the room. An overpowering scent of raspberries hits a second later. The bomb was too much for the size of a classroom. Keeping his eyes closed, and covering his nose with a sleeve to protect against the cloying smoke, he uses his other hand to dig for the lametta in his pocket. Aoko's coughing. She hasn't moved from directly below his only way of exiting, meaning he has to improvise. He was going to use the lametta to make an artsy mustache for Aoko, but that will have to wait for another day. He lets a few long pieces float down. She screeches a moment later.

"SPIDERWEB! GET IT OFF!" With that, she steps blindly out of the way, allowing Kaito to slip down to the floor with barely a sound. Thanks to Saguru's earlier shout, Kaito knows his position. It's safest to head for a window. He skirts the few old student desks by memory, and within seconds has a window open and is jumping out. The colorful smoke flows with him.

Kaito looks in once it's clear enough to see.

"Fuuu-fwahahaha!" This time he doesn't bother holding in his laughter. The whole interior is dust-coated with with bright colors, including Aoko and Saguru, but especially a still-glittering Aoko. Saguru probably exited the room to avoid most of it. Kaito is most definitely a rainbow of colors since he was directly in it. _"Achee!"_ Colorful dust lifts from his body and rains on the grass by his feet. Everything is going to smell like raspberries for a while.

"EEEIIIIIII!" Aoko shrieks, before coughing again. "KAITO, AOKO'S PATIENCE IS GONE!"

"You never had any," he jeers, dodging as a mop comes flying at him like some rainbow-spewing lance. He dashes away when Saguru starts running for the window.

Rainbow dust trails are perfect for laying down false leads. Five minutes later, a few reverses and some backtracking has Aoko confused and all over the place. Saguru isn't as easy to fool, but Aoko's zeal to catch Kaito as quickly as possible is slowing the detective down. He's spending too much time trying to teach her the fine art of tracking.

 _Good luck_ , Kaito thinks, nestled high within the green cover of a sturdy pagoda's branches. When Aoko is riled nothing gets through that thick head of hers.

 _Vrrnnn. . .Vrrnnn. . .Vrrnnn. . ._

Kaito leans back and reaches into his gakuran pants pocket for his cell phone.

" _Botchama_ ," Konosuke Jii's voice greets.

"Jii-chan, what's up~?" Kaito sing-songs.

" _I need to speak to you. May I come over when you get home from school?_ "

The old-timer must have found something interesting. Excitement begins to bubble in his veins. It's time to plan another heist. Something cold knocks against his heart, and he knows what it is, but he ignores it.

"You know you're always welcome."

" _Yes, but I don't want to intrude with business if you're planning to have company over_."

"That won't be a problem." Kaito will have his bookbag today, and Aoko will be so busy trying to get rid of a pound of glitter and dust she won't bother coming over. "In fact, I'm heading home now. Go ahead and let yourself in."

" _Botchama, you shouldn't skip school! What will Okusama say?_ "

"Trust me, Jii-chan. I wouldn't be allowed back in the classroom right now, anyway." Not without a shower and clean uniform.

A disapproving hum comes over the phone.

"My sensei and I have an understanding! I get full marks on all quizzes, tests, and exams. Statistically, the school loves me, but personally they appreciate when I'm absent."

". . . _I will see you in an hour._ "

"Righty-o," Kaito says, before ending the call and putting his now color-splotched phone back in his pocket. He looks the distance over to see Aoko and Saguru have barely moved five meters, and chuckles. "Ja-ne." He gives a small wave that goes unnoticed, and then he's sliding down the opposite side of the tree and jogging away.

One way or another, he talks Konno-sensei into letting him get his bookbag (no one dares touch his stuff after one unfortunate soul thought to plunder inside, and something within had burped ink bubbles and snapped). While there he slips a little gift into Saguru's black school satchel. August 29th had been a special day for the blond bastard, after all. It's just too bad he didn't have it ready in time—his dove spies didn't pick up on the important news until less than twenty-four hours in advance.

)*(

Ran's phone chimes and she scrambles to answer it without bothering to glance at the caller ID.

" _Ran-chan, we'r at_ _the agency. Where ar' ya?_ " Toyama Kazuha's Kansai-ben lifts from the speaker.

"Kazuha-chan, I'm so glad to hear you! I'm sorry I'm not there; I wanted to recheck a few streets, but I'm nearby. I'll be there in five minutes."

Ran makes it back in three-and-a-half.

"Ran-chan!" Kazuha is flying down the entryway stairs just as Ran comes into sight. The girls collide in a fierce hug.

"Kazuha-chan," Ran's voice is barely audible against the other girl's shoulder as she holds on tight. Her blue-lilac eyes glance up the entryway to see Hattori Heiji coming down to join them at a much safer pace. "I'm so glad you two are here." The dam cracks, and silent tears pour. She is too mentally and physically drained to properly cry after having searched Beika repeatedly and essentially nonstop for the last two days.

Kazuha notices how much Ran is leaning in their embrace. The Karate champion wouldn't allow herself to slouch. Kazuha pushes Ran back up, and holds her where she can study her. Her friend's skin is pale, and dry where it isn't streaked by tears. Dark circles have dug trenches under her bloodshot and red-rimmed eyes. Her lips are dry, and so is her hair as wisps of it have lifted away from the rest. Kazuha immediately tears up at the sight.

"Ran-chan. . . !" The whisper is somehow a mixture of admonishment and concern. Ran gives one audible sob.

"Nee-chan, we'v got ya." Heiji comes to their side and wraps a bracing arm around Ran's shoulders. His expression is intense, and drawn slightly inward as if a million thoughts are racing just behind his vivid green eyes. "Let's get ya inside wit' a bite ta eat, an' you can giv' us the details 'afore gettin' some rest." His arm starts to gently steer her forward toward the stairs. Kazuha steps out of the way and to her other side, her hold changing to wrap one arm around her back. Ran lets herself be guided, but shakes her head.

"I won't stop looking. I'm going with you," she says, looking above her right shoulder at Heiji.

"No!" he says so sternly that she stops in her tracks; whether in shock or to lash out at him she isn't sure, but his intense expression softens a fraction. "Sorry, Nee-chan, but ya need ta recharge if yer wantin' ta continue helpin'. Besides, Ku-Kunan-kun would be upset ta see ya now." His words hit like a punch, and she finds it hard to breathe. Emotions flood her. She wants to explode—to just let everything out, and Heiji with his Kendo training could take a hit.

The thought is immediately appalling, and she has to fight not to burst into uncontrollable sobs. Her mood is incredibly unstable from stress and lack of sleep. There is no time to waste thinking or acting like this. She wants to be calm—she needs to be calm so she can help. She needs to help! She's tough and doesn't buckle under pressure, so why is she wasting so much energy with these churning emotions? All the worry, fear, confusion, anger. . .they are keeping her off-center.

"Heiji! Don't say it like that!" Kazuha hisses, using the arm behind Ran to smack his shoulder. The hit is light so as not to jar Ran between them. At some point they've begun to shuffle awkwardly up the stairs. Heiji turns mostly sideways to lead them up. Kazuha moves more-or-less behind Ran, keeping a comforting hand against her back.

"What? K-conan-kun would hate ta see his nee-chan lookin' so worried an' worn down." Heiji knows and understands. Whatever the circumstance, he'd rather have a fiery poker stuck against his chest than see Kazuha in such a state. Witnessing Ran's distress strikes hard him hard enough. No doubt Shinichi would become a raging bull if he could see her now, and that would be scary because all that rage would be delivered with razor-sharp precision and single-minded intent toward the culprit; made creepy by the fact that he can pull it off with a small body and childlike innocence.

Ran's vision dims, and bright spots rise until shapes don't make sense anymore. She suddenly falters going up the steps.

"Ran-chan!"

"Oi!"

Sounds are muffled and it's as if the garble is stuck on repeat in her head. Nothing's making sense. An iron grip latches onto her arm, and something wraps around her torso. She jerks her head and blinks, trying to pull everything back into focus. The bright spots are gone, but now her sight is dim and blurry. However, she can make out Heiji using both hands to secure her by the arm. Did she lean back? A set of arms are wrapped around her from behind, and she can feel Kazuha pressed against her. Between the two of them, they managed to keep her from falling.

"S-sorry," she slurs, feeling mortified and so very, very tired. "I think. . .I almost. . .fainted. . ."

"No almost ta it," Heiji says, as Ran's eyes roll back and her knees give out. Thankfully, he's prepared and hoists her up against him, keeping Kazuha from overbalancing. Somehow they've kept from getting banged up along the concrete steps.

"Uh. . ." Heiji pauses awkwardly, looking passed the brown hair so close to his nose and down at Kazuha, "I'm gonna face her toward ya, and ya grab her ankles." They'll cart her the rest of the way up.

"Poor Ran-chan," Kazuha mutters, looking sadly at Ran. She then directs a firm gaze up at Heiji. "How ar' we goin' ta get in? Kogoro-ojisan is out, an' the door is locked." They'd already found that out when Ran wasn't here to greet them.

"She has ta hav' the key. Ya could get it, ahou," Heiji says, as they work together to carefully turn Ran and rotate her between them. Kazuha moves down to take Ran by the ankles, and Heiji supports her under her armpits.

"Ahou! Tha' would be rude!"

"Wha's wors' is her recoverin' on these stairs!" He has a point, so Kazuha reluctantly agrees. Ran is all lean muscle, so her frame is heavy for her size. Fortunately, both Heiji and Kazuha are built the same way thanks to his training in Kendo, and her training in Aikido. They trek up the stairs and stop on the deck in front of the agency's door. Actually, in order to set Ran down so Kazuha can go through her pockets, Heiji has to continue partway up the second set of stairs that lead to the Mouri's living quarters.

Kazuha finds the small set of keys quickly, and after a bit of experimenting, finds the correct key to the door. They shuffle inside and lay Ran on the couch.

"I'm gettin' a washcloth. Mak' some tea an' somethin' ta eat. She doesn' look ta hav' eatin' in a while," Heiji says. Kazuha nods and hurries back out of the agency, heading up the second flight of stairs. Heiji busies himself by finding a washcloth and wetting it. As he sets it on Ran's forehead, he notices she has a low-grade fever. Probably worried herself sick. At least she's resting for now. Although, Heiji can't stay put and wait for her to wake up. He was hoping Ran could give him the details of what's happened the last two days, but now he'll have to speak with Kogoro.

Joy.

If only Ran had called Kazuha and him sooner. She'd been hoping Shinichi would come through for Conan's sake; he usually responds back at most a few hours later. Little does she know that's currently impossible.

Regardless, the situation is what it is, and it's time to solve this mystery. As Heiji walks to inspect Kogoro's littered desk, he turns the bill of his SAX cap forward. Scraps of paper and a wrinkled map show places that have been searched. Green eyes widen a fraction. Kogoro has detailed the search, stating the times and names of who has taken what action. With how lousy a detective he makes, it's hard to remember he used to be a good officer. He'll give the man a quick call while heading to the professor's for a visit. Little nee-chan was the last to see Shinichi, so he needs to question her personally. Besides that, why can't the professor contact Shinichi? Isn't he the creator of all those nifty gadgets? Heiji will check in on that as well. Afterward, he'll head to the police station to find out what's happening on that front.

Heiji dashes out the agency while grabbing for his phone. He thumbs a quick text to Kazuha letting her know he's leaving so Ran won't be unattended for long before calling Kogoro.

"Otchan, where ar' ya?"

)*(

Conan isn't sure if he groaned, or dreamed he did. It's difficult to tell when he's asleep or when he's awake because of the consuming darkness, and his desire to stay still; even on the rigid concrete. A small eternity has passed without the first sign from his captors, meaning he's been left without basic necessities for a considerable amount of time.

Food he could honestly do without for a while longer; he wants water. He had been looking forward to a glass of the chrysanthemum and honey tea Ran made before the invasion of all this perpetual darkness. Now he is either borderline severely dehydrated, or already declined passed that point. The headache has long since morphed into a migraine that's eating away at his brain; his tongue is swollen, and his chest is jerking with every beat of his heart. What's more, he's starting to develop chills though the storage room is temperate.

At least he hasn't had to use the drain to do his business often.

This is confusing. Why has he been left alone for so long? Why spend the effort to abduct him, and then leave him to wither away? Do they need him, or is the objective simply for him to die? If killing him is their goal, they could have been nicer about it, or at least quicker. What a terrible and anticlimactic way to go considering all the harrowing events he's been through during his shrunken escapade. Luck may not be real, but maybe all those O-mikuji fortunes were right. Being stuck here with death closing in slowly; it certainly feels as if he has terrible luck. Why? Who did he piss off?

Seriously. The Black Organization wouldn't waste time like this. This isn't their style at all.

"Why?" he croaks, startling himself. He hadn't meant to speak. Was he dreaming again? Sometimes flashes of images nearly blind him before the black reclaims his vision, but he didn't see anything this time. "WHY?!" he shouts, suddenly furious. The many echoes of his reverberating voice breaks the cushion of silence, grating on his ears. Why is this being done to him? Who the hell is behind it? . . . He shouldn't have shouted; now his head is hurting to the point it's making him nauseous. This time he knows he groans out loud.

This can't be how it's going to end.

 _Ran_. What is she doing now? He doesn't want to disappear and leave her to wonder about Conan and Shinichi forever. What he wouldn't give to hug her. He's almost forgotten what it feels like to wrap his arms around her—his older self never really had a reason to, and as Conan he can barely reach around her sides.

What is his mom and dad going to think? Yukiko will be a wailing banshee out for blood, and Yusaku will stop at nothing to solve the case. That's. . .a really depressing thought. What about the Shōnen Tantei-dan? They'll miss him, but they'll grow and learn to deal with it. Hopefully they will become great detectives. Oh, but Ai would have something sarcastic to say about that.

The professor? He's undoubtedly busy with something electronic. Maybe he has a new invention ready. What kind of neat, new gadgets will the kids get when they're old enough to handle them? Which one of the children will rival Heiji when they're all adults? It'd be great to see. . . Ran and Kazuha would laugh at the competitive antics bound to result. Kogoro would be forced to retire, but that would be okay since he'd rather have fun betting at the horse races and drink beer. For his sake, Conan hopes he wins big.

At some point Conan has started to dream. He knows he's dreaming because he can see everyone smiling and happy. Suddenly, he's right there with them, as Shinichi, smiling as they decide to celebrate their gathering by barbecuing on one of the professor's grills. Unfortunately, the grill malfunctions because the professor had tried to give it some crazy feature. But they can all head to Café Poirot for dinner. Amuro Tooru and Enomoto Azusa will be surprised to have so many people show up at once.

A touch of coldness at his neck rips the dream from in front of his eyes and replaces it with the too-familiar black. The coldness is quickly spreading and seeping underneath him. Something begins to gush from the direction of the hole in the wall. Conan sits up and shuffles out of the liquid's growing path before touching it and bringing some to his nose. It has a slight smell of chlorine—city water! He hustles as fast as he can to the source, catching the water in both hands to gulp down. The relief is immediate. In his haste he ends up choking a little, but that hardly slows him down. While he has the chance he needs to drink as much as he can. He can almost feel as his thirsty cells absorb the water. The migraine should ease soon.

After downing what must be a couple of pints, Conan leans back against the wall; the water still gushing noisily to his left. Water trickles between his fingers as he tries to hold onto a little for later, unable to drink anymore. No doubt he'll lose most of it, but if he can have enough to wet his lips and tongue, then it'll be worth it. If he were a little warmer he'd be willing to use his shirt as a sponge, but it's best to keep dry what protective covering he has.

The water pressure soon dies down to a trickle, and then everything goes quiet again. That was good timing. Coincidence, or is he being monitored within this dark void? One thing is certain; they don't want him to die. What is their aim, then? What purpose does it serve to keep him locked away like this? Are they trying to break him down? To them he's just a kid. Wouldn't it make more sense to use a direct approach—one that's less time consuming?

What are they waiting for? Why do they need him?

)*(

"Botchama. . .what possible use could you have for those multicolored smoke bombs? I can clearly see everywhere you've been in the house," Jii remarks to a still-damp Kaito as his bespectacled eyes gloss over the living area and further on passed the jutting walls that separate the rest of the house.

Fresh from the shower and dressed in a pair of well-worn jeans and a tie-dye t-shirt, Kaito hooks a leg under a cushion of the tan couch before sitting back and using the towel around his shoulders to attack his hair.

"The possibilities are endless, Jii-chan."

The older man again looks at the colorful tracks on the wooden floor, the swipes from where clothing brushed walls, the partial handprints scattered about, and takes a deep breath. No thief in their right mind would want to carry an item that could easily turn their best sneaking efforts against them, but this is Kaito. The young phantom thief spins logic on its head.

"You haven't had enough fun with colors, I see," Jii says, his gaze coming to rest on Kaito's shirt. Kaito looks at him from underneath the towel and grins. "It may look like an artist had a tantrum in here, but it smells nice. Are you using a new air freshener?" At this, Kaito chuckles.

"No, you're smelling the smoothie I made. It erupted all over the kitchen, so you may want to steer clear of the area."

At Jii's horrified expression, Kaito laughs. "Kidding!" he says, lowering the towel back around his shoulders. "It's from the smoke bomb. I was a bit heavy-handed with the scent factor, and ended up creating a fruity aroma that plasters with the resilience of a skunk—I can't neutralize it. But, there really is some raspberry smoothie in the fridge if you want it."

It is Jii's turn to chuckle. "Ah. That explains the colorful mess leading to the kitchen. You couldn't resist after smelling the fruit so much."

"Pin-pon!" Kaito remarks playfully. The light of his eyes brightens with excitement. "What caught your attention out there, Jii-chan?"

It's time for business. Jii moves to the free side of the couch and sits down, placing his electronic notebook on his lap. As soon as it opens the screen lights up to reveal the image of a diamond. Kaito whistles once the screen is turn toward him, instantly noticing the gem's large size, dark Cognac color, and excellent marquise cut. Even if Cognac diamonds are generally the least expensive of their brethren, this one is more than fancy.

"That would break a few banks." Kaito leans closer to better study it.

"What's more exceptional is this diamond's rich history. It was discovered long ago within view of the pyramids of Giza, the theory being that it was meant for one of the great structures, but was either lost or stolen. Many times it changed hands; its owners claiming the diamond brought them one misfortune after another—so much so that it has become known as Mes-in Shenew."

Kaito's brows furrow. "Eehh? Egyptian juju? Why should I be interested in something dubbed _Born in Illness_?" He's had enough of curses thanks to sharing a classroom with a certain redheaded witch. Besides, misfortune and eternal life do not seem congruent to each other.

"Let me finish. The diamond disappeared from public eye for decades after being purchased by the LaMont family. It is rumored to have been sealed away underground in an attempt to stem its negative influence. Just a couple days ago it was rediscovered by a LaMont relative, and immediately sold—may as well say given—to Sasaki Yuudai here in Tokyo; whom is currently on his way to Yushima Tenjin Shrine in hopes that Nadeushi will cure the stone's ill tendencies."

"Uh. . ." Kaito sinks back into the cushions with an eyebrow raised.

"My thoughts exactly," Jii says, closing the electronic notebook. "Nadeushi is thought to cure normal illnesses, not remove a curse from an artifact—if such a thing is actually true."

"No offense to Tenjin's servant, but if that diamond really is cursed, stroking the bronze cow probably won't help much."

"You believe in such things as curses?" Jii asks, curious as to what could turn a skeptic into a believer. Kaito purses his lips and tries not to break out in goosebumps. Ever since Koizumi Akako decided to pursue him he's believed in real magic. Then. . .every time she warns him something is going to happen— _NOPE! NOT THINKING OF THAT!_

"I'd be an idiot to disregard the possibility after so many people have had trouble, but I have the best luck, so an unlucky curse wouldn't affect me," Kaito boosts, pointing a thumb to his chest. He suddenly jerks with a small noise, appearing stunned. _Hiku. . !_. . . _Hiku!_ Kaito covers his mouth, trying to stifle the sounds.

"Hiccups, Botchama? I hope this isn't a bad omen. . ."

"Don't sa- _hiku!_ that!" Kaito rockets off the couch and disappears into the kitchen.

"Superstition has it that hiccups can be a sign one has bad luck. Considering what we were discussing. . ." Jii speaks loud enough to be heard. "What are you doing in there?"

"Getting sug- _hiku!_ Sugar!" Kaito returns a moment later with a spoon in his mouth, looking disgruntled.

"What good will sugar do?" Jii is perplexed as he watches the approaching teenager.

"Don'cha know sugar stops hiccups?" he articulates perfectly around the spoon in his mouth, hands on his hips.

"That can't be true." Jii shakes his head.

"I don't need an excuse to eat sugar. See? They're gone." Kaito grins, pulling the spoon out of his mouth, twirling the utensil between his fingers. "Nine times out of ten it works."

Jii sighs. Only Kaito would find a use for an unhealthy addiction. "Getting back on topic of the diamond, Suzuki Jurokichi-san has made a substantial offer to Sasaki Yuudai-san for the gem. No doubt he wants it to lure Kaitou Kid into another battle of wits and traps."

"Hurrr. . ." Kaito's shoulders slump, but the spoon is kept twirling. "Sizable gem or not, I don't think the Mes-in Shenew is what I'm looking for, but if Suzuki-no-jiisan challenges Kid then I've got no choice," he says disheartenedly.

"I think it would be worth checking, regardless." Jii says.

"Is there something you haven't told me?"

"Yes, and it is what compelled me to bring this diamond to your attention. A couple of past owners of the Mes-in Shenew stated whenever they touched the gem the center seemed to glow."

Kaito's gaze locks on to Jii's with renewed excitement, and the spoon comes to a sudden stop. "How often did they touch it? What color did they see?"

"I'm sorry, but that I don't know."

Kaito pulls on his lower lip with his teeth. One slow blink, looking toward the floor, and then his gaze returns to Jii. The blue-violet is piercing. "You said Suzuki-no-jiisan is after the diamond. Has he and this Sasaki person met yet?"

"No, but Suzuki Jurokichi-san has given Sasaki Yuudai-san a formal invite to his private estate."

A grin slashes across Kaito's face. "Sasaki-san is in the middle of traveling. Do you know where he will be spending the night?"

"Of course, Botchama. While Sasaki Yuudai-san has been trying to keep those aware of his and the gem's location to a minimum, as of this moment he has room 107 of the Haido City Hotel booked. However, it is unlikely that he will carry the gem there."

"That's fine. I just want to drop off a little advance notice." With only about a week left until the full moon, Kaito will need to act fast, and spur Sasaki Yuudai into making a quick decision. There won't be as much time as usual to prepare for this heist, but he already has a few ideas. The cogs of his mind are turning at high speed, and are considering the best courses of action to get the desired outcome.

The show is about to begin.


End file.
